


won't stop running till we reach the sun

by shayisgay



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Adoption, Crack Fic, Fluff, Foster families, Found Family, Gen, IRL Fic, Kinda?, Light Angst, Lighthearted, Sleepy Bois Inc Fluff, Sleepy Bois Inc as Family, Sleepy Bois Inc-centric, Tags Are Hard, c!philza sucks as a parent so lets change that, how tf do i tag this, phil???? is a good father??????, sbi as family, theyre a family your honor, theyre based off of the characters but in an irl setting, youtubers au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-17
Updated: 2021-03-24
Packaged: 2021-03-25 22:48:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30096312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shayisgay/pseuds/shayisgay
Summary: When Wilbur starts a Youtube channel, Phil didn't expect it to completely change his family's lives. But now, he's apparently been collectively adopted as a dad by the internet, Wilbur's a Youtube musician, Techno's the leader of some fighting Blood God cult, and Tommy's a chaotic streamer who plays Minecraft and Nintendo to entertain the masses.or, i took sbi family dynamics and went great, but what if we made them youtubers AGAIN but with some secret identities mixed in.title from woodland by the paper kites!
Relationships: Technoblade & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Wilbur Soot & Technoblade, Wilbur Soot & Technoblade & TommyInnit & Phil Watson, Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit
Comments: 43
Kudos: 330





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> i'm tired of looking at this so here you take it it's your problem now. forgive all of the inaccuracies i don't know how youtube actually works
> 
> this is the first time i've written fic in about 2 years so forgive any mistakes, this is more than one chapter but ao3 is being a bitch on my end and it says it's a completed work even though i SPECIFICALLY said it wasn't but wHaTeVeR
> 
> but yeah, here's your glorified crack fic, please don't be mean to me or else i'll cry like a little bitch and contrary to popular belief i'm NOT into that
> 
> this is formatted on mobile so forgive any weird quirks, i'll try to fix them!

It’s an unassuming Wednesday evening when Wilbur approaches him.

Wilbur’s in his room, Phil thinks, working on his AP Psychology project he was assigned a week ago. He takes a sip of his tea and turns the page of the book he’s reading. He’s so absorbed in the book he barely hears a door close, and footsteps coming from the staircase.

“Dad?” A voice asks. “Can I talk to you?” Phil turns around to see Wilbur at the staircase base, guitar strapped over his shoulders and hands fiddling with nothing in particular.

It’s the best possible time for Wilbur to approach him without his brothers overhearing. Techno’s at Taekwondo, the latest fighting form he’s learning, while Tommy’s at therapy with Ms. Puffy. It’s just the two of them at home, which is, Phil assumes, why Wilbur picked now to talk to him about whatever’s been on his mind. He’s not doing anything that’s actually important, and he will always make time for a son in distress.

“Course, Wil. Wanna come sit down?” He pats the couch cushion next to him, and Wilbur goes, propping his guitar up on the couch arm. “Is it about your Psych project? I know you’ve been stressing yourself out about it.”

“No, no, that’s actually been going good. We’re analyzing Scar’s narcissism. But that’s not the point. It’s that, well… Dad, I want to record my music.”

Phil blinks. “You want to record your music? Like to sell?” he asks. He’s actually a bit surprised. Wilbur’s never seemed like he wanted to record his music to sell, just content playing his guitar in his room and showing his family his songs. He’s never really liked the spotlight, Phil thought. He always seemed happy 

Wilbur bites his lip a bit. “No, like… here, I’ll just show you,” he grabs his phone out of his back pocket and sits down on the couch next to Phil. He pulls up Youtube and goes to a channel. It’s a young woman with videos of herself holding her guitar and ukulele. “I want to make a Youtube channel like this,” he says. “Like, you know how I play for you and Techno and Tommy all the time? It’d just be like that, but with a camera. And then like, uploading it online.”

Phil ponders for a moment. He nudges Wilbur for his phone and Wilbur complies, and he holds his phone and scrolls through the channel. Wilbur shifts anxiously.

“Sounds good, mate,” Phil says finally. Wilbur’s head shoots up to look at Phil.

“Really?” he says breathlessly, like he had just assumed Phil would immediately knock the idea down.

“Well, yeah, of course. We’ll have to get you a mic and a camera, I think, but maybe that could be an early birthday present for you?” he voices out loud, making a checklist of what he would probably need. “Oh, and maybe a new guitar would be nice too, huh?”

“Nah, I like this one. It’s the one you got me, you know? It means a lot to me,” he says, slowly trailing off at the end. Phil grins.

“Oh, I see how it is,” he says, reaching up to ruffle Wilbur’s hair. “You absolute fucking sap,” he laughs at the indignant noise Wilbur makes.

“What the hell! Is it even appropriate to call your son a fucking sap? Isn’t that like, child abuse?” he groans. Phil just laughs again.

“One condition though,” he says, after the laughter has run its course. “This can’t get in the way of your schoolwork, okay? I understand being excited and wanting to write songs instead of doing your school, but this depends on you at least trying to stay caught up with school. Do you understand?” He warns. Wilbur smiles and nods.

“Of course, dad.”

“Good. Would you like to start looking online for what we need?” Wilbur excitedly nods.

* * *

Together, they pick out a good mic and camera, and it arrives after a week. Wilbur excitedly puts it together, while Phil watches with approval in his eyes. “Dad? Do you wanna help me set this up?” he asks, setting the camera up onto the tripod. Phil gets up and grabs the microphone, attaching the pop filter to it, and moving it over to Wilbur’s bed. Wilbur had decided that he wanted to record just on his bed. He said that if he was in a familiar environment, it would probably be easiest to record.

They both step back and admire their work. “Looks good, Wil.”

“I think so too,” he smiles. He walks over to his closet and grabs the guitar hanging on the wall. “Now, shoo! I’m gonna record something. Test it out, you know. Big man stuff, as Tommy would say.”

Phil laughs. “Okay, okay. Please don’t start saying big man like Tommy does, I can only handle one gremlin at a time.”

“Ew! I would never,” Wilbur says, affronted. “Who the hell do you take me for?” Phil laughs again at his son’s disgust and walks out of the door, closing it behind him.

* * *

And that should be that, he thinks. Wilbur’s happy, he’s recording his music and definitely getting better after time. Techno and Tommy eventually found out, since it wasn’t exactly a secret, and they watch some of the videos, but Phil’s the only one who watches every single one. He starts out small, but he’s gradually gained followers and now has almost 600 subscribers and comments left on each of his videos praising him, and Wilbur had told him in private that he was finally ready to share his music that he had written.

Phil gave him his support, which ended up leading to him scrolling through the comments of “For Memories”, heart breaking a bit every time.

Phil couldn’t like… adopt the entire internet, right? That wasn’t realistic, wasn’t something he could do? He’s always had a difficult time leaving things be, not involving himself when he sees someone obviously dealing with trauma. Hell, that’s how he ended up adopting Tommy, when he saw the system fail this poor kid over and over. 

He knows that adopting these kids opening up through a song on Youtube isn’t practical, but…

He ponders on it for the night.

* * *

For Memories - original

Wilbur Soot 1,143 views

View Comments

Amelia

this song is just,,, so raw?? it reminds me of people i’ve lost and friends who are gone and just,,,,, ur talent,,,,,,,,,,,

Reply

trans and sad

this song reminds me of my friend. he took his own life a year ago. i miss him, and sometimes i hate how he left but this song just reminds me that it’s okay to miss him, it’s okay to feel torn apart but i just need to keep him with me in my memories, you know?

Reply

bluemoonæsthetic

Amazing!! Liked and subscribed!

Reply

Softlithe

Reminds me of my dad… was still a piece of shit but like I still miss him lmao

Reply

* * *

It’s when they’re eating breakfast as a family that Phil finally gets his answer.

Wilbur’s drinking a cup of tea and Tommy’s eating a bowl of cereal and Techno’s fiddling with the toaster because, in his words, he’s _“finally fed up with having burnt-ass toast 24/7”._ He’s frustrated and keeps growling, and it stays like that until Phil finally gets fed up. He stands up and walks over to Techno.

“Here, mate, let’s work on it together? Check to see if it's clean first.” He grabs a rag. “I’m guessing…” he trails off, making a face. “Yeah, the heating coils have crumbs all over. That’s probably messing with how it’s been heating. Let’s clean it out and see if that works. If not, I’ll probably have to mess with the thermostat.” He looks up to see everyone staring at him. “What?” he asks.

Tommy snickers. “You are _such_ a dad,” he mocks. Wilbur and Techno nod in agreement. “The daddest dad to ever dad. Old man.” He shoves a spoonful of whatever ungodly sugary cereal he’s been eating into his mouth.

“You’re all brats, every single last one of you.”

“No no, he has a point,” Techno said. “You’re such a dad, dads go to you to get dadding lessons. If you like, taught a dad seminar, dads from all over the world would flock to you to learn from The Great Phil, dad supreme. This is your destiny now. Just accept it,” he grins, stealing the rag from Phil’s hand to clean out the inside of the toaster.

“Like, deadass, that could be a thing you do,” Wilbur says, taking a sip of his tea. “Just teach dad lessons to people. Like, be a dad superman. Picture it - someone’s having car troubles? They call you up like some sort of dad Batman. A kid’s crying? Boom, super dad here to the rescue. You could make a business out of it.”

Phil doesn’t respond. Tommy barks out a large laugh. “Yo big man, are you actually fucking considering it? You gonna quit your job to be a dad superman? Legendary. You totally should, that’d be pog. The most pog thing to ever pog.”

“Shut up Tommy, you aren’t even making sense.”

“Fuck you, Techno!”

They both start squabbling, but Phil doesn’t listen. He’s too caught up in his head. Because, while being some sort of dad superman isn’t realistic at all, lessons…? A way to teach people without a strong figure in their life? That’s more realistic.

And where does he know where a lot of people gather, looking for support, for distractions, for help?

He thinks on it.

* * *

This may be a dumb idea, but like. Phil doesn’t really care. He’s resolved to it, he’s committed.

So when his kids complain about being booted from the kitchen, he heeds them no mind. He’s got a fucking Youtube video to film, with the camera that Wilbur let him borrow.

He angles it so it has the kitchen entirely in view. It’s a wreck. Having three teenage boys that somehow manage to disappear every time there’s work that needs to be done will, apparently, do that. He starts up the camera and steps into view.

“Hi guys, I’m Philza. I’m… new to Youtube, I guess? I didn’t actually plan on making any videos, but I saw a common theme in younger people where like, depression is a bitch. So like…” he trails off. He feels so awkward, words clumsy in his mouth. He feels like a young teen giving a presentation, unsure in his words and making little to no sense. He takes a deep breath.

“I know that when your depression gets bad, it’s hard to motivate yourself to do anything. It’s difficult to get out of bed, much less do cleaning. So I’m just doing this video to help divide things up to make them more manageable for your brain, so it seems less daunting.”

He gestures to the kitchen around him. “Believe it or not, I cleaned this kitchen two days ago. Doesn’t look it, I know,” he says sarcastically. “My sons like to not clean up their messes and then be mysteriously out of the house when it gets awful. It’s a work in progress with us. But anyways, let’s clean some of this up, kay? And I’ll guide you through a good way to clean up these messes. It’s tough when you have depression, but it’ll all work out in the end, and we can make this more manageable.”

He puts on yellow rubber gloves that were set off to the side of the sink. “First, the dishes. My eldest son actually has a lot of problems with sensory issues, specifically the feelings of the wet or dirty dishes, so I make sure to have these long rubber gloves. It just helps a lot in general with those sensory issues, and makes the task a lot less daunting.

“Now, I know a lot of you don’t have dishwashers, so just like, ignore mine. Poof. It’s vanished. That bitch is gone. We’re going to be hand washing these little assholes. 

"First, let's sort these all out. This is especially helpful for everyone with ADHD- sort your dishes out into whatever arbitrary categories your brain demands. For me, that's by plates, cups, bowls and the likes, but brains are weird and you might like color. Whatever makes this all easier on your brain.

"This is optional, but pick the one you hate the least. Wash those first, to ease yourself into it. Having the dishes divided into easy to manage sections makes this whole process a lot easier," he says, not looking at the camera. "Make sure to put the dangerous hurting stuff aside though so you don't maim yourself. That's really not recommended in this entire process. I worry about you guys, you know? You gotta be careful, especially when you’re washing sharp or delicate dishes. I would be very sad if you got hurt.

"Now you've got these all in categories, and we're just gonna pick up our brush and start scrubbing these bad boys. I like washing plates, so I'm going to start with those. Just choose some category to clean and finish that one. Usually, I like to listen to music while I do this. It helps me focus, but you can listen to a podcast if you want. Whatever floats your boat, kid."

He continues scrubbing, talking about his day. “My youngest has been bringing over his friend lately, you know. They keep bothering my other two sons to get a reaction from them. My middle child was so frustrated with him, that he hid the wireless mouse to the computer. The kid was so mad when he realized it was gone and couldn’t play Minecraft with his friend. Not gonna lie, he deserved it though. He needs to learn that if you bug older siblings enough, they’ll retaliate,” he says, idly washing the cups with his sponge. Finally, he’s finished with the utensils and takes off the gloves and grabs a towel. “Drying’s the easiest part, in my opinion. You can let most of these air dry while you wash the rest of them, and then it makes it easier on you in the end,” he smiles. Wiping his forehead, he finishes up drying them off with a towel, and steps back to examine his work. 

"Looks pretty good! I'm gonna be honest, I'm really worn out, so I might get to this later, but for now, I hope this helps. There’s no shame in tackling it in small parts at a time. Everyone does it. You’re valid in your struggles and it’s okay to take your time with this. Remember, you aren't alone, and it's okay to struggle with things. You have people you can rely on. Things may be hard right now, but they'll be okay someday. Maybe not soon, but someday. All you can do is fight through it right now. And I know that's a lot to ask, but I wouldn't ask you to if you weren't capable of it. I love you," he says, and then turns off the camera.

Was this a good idea? Should he actually post it?

Fuck it. He was nothing if not impulsive, and he wasn't gonna chicken out of it. Someone might find this useful, someone might need this.

And he was going to do it for that person.

* * *

In retrospect, he really should have explained this to his boys in full before he did this.

It _might_ not have led to them all collectively laughing at him when he asked for editing advice. Or at least, he could have gotten some of the mocking done with before he actually _needed_ their help.

"Oh my god, you took it seriously. You are literally the dad superman to the depressed millennials and Gen Z. I can't believe my dad is the father to all," Techno snorts, nudging Phil. “Tommy, you’re not allowed to be clingy anymore, you literally have to share him with the entire world, how will you manage?”

Wilbur bursts out laughing again while Tommy scowls. “I’m not even going to dignify that with a fucking response. Fuck you.” He looks to Phil, pointedly ignoring Techno starting to say that no, that was indeed a response. "But anyways, Phil! I find this _very_ interesting!”

_“Stop sucking up to dad!”_ Wilbur shouts. Techno snorts, and Tommy ignores him.

“Mr. Big Man truly doing big man stuff, huh?” He barks out an obnoxious laugh. “I'm so proud of you, you've upgraded to the big leagues. You're a fuckin’ youtuber now! I thought I would be the first, but no, it's you!"

"Tommy, I've literally had a Youtube channel for 3 months,” Wilbur says, giving Tommy an elbow to the ribs.

Tommy wheezes out a breath then glares. "You don't count, bitch. You're just singing. That's not big man stuff, that's like, small man stuff. Not pog. Superman dad however, incredibly pog. Suck it, petty ass bitch."

"You are literally the most annoying gremlin ever. I have no idea how anyone puts up with you."

“Fuck you, bitch! Techno loves me. Don’t you, Techno?” Tommy glares at Techno, willing him to agree with him, but Techno just stares at them both, lightly amused.

“I’m not getting involved in this, solve this yourself,” he says, then immediately puts his arms up when Tommy attempts to tackle him, putting him in a chokehold that wouldn’t actually hurt him, just cause him to not be able to attack him anymore.

_"Boys,"_ Phil said sternly. They all shut up and turn to Phil. “Stop that. Techno, let him go. Tommy, don’t attack Techno. Wilbur, stop antagonizing Tommy.” Techno sighs, releasing Tommy from the light chokehold. Tommy dramatically rubs his neck. "I just need you guys to listen to it once _without_ making fun of it. Can I expect you to be mature enough for that, or am I expecting too much of my _teenaged sons_." They all look at each other and grin, shit-eating smiles, all in agreement to fuck with one person.

"Oh yeah, your expectations of us are _way_ too high," Techno deadpans.

"Yeah, dad, what were you expecting? We're literally teenagers. We find ironic humor in the cringe of life. Or rather, the cringe of _you_."

"Plus it's just way too much fun to make fun of you. Not our fault that you're so fuckin’ mockable, big man," Tommy adds on.

Phil just massages his temples and wonders where he went wrong in parenting.

* * *

After the three were finally tired of making fun of him, they actually gave good advice on where to cut down a bit and what should probably be cut out. They made fun of him for the intro, and how awkward he sounded, but oddly enough, they didn’t make him change it. They said it was fitting for him. Phil wasn’t sure if he should take that as an insult or not.

And so they posted it on Phil’s brand new account he made, due to Wilbur harassing him about not wanting to be associated with his _dad_ of all people. He titles it “How to Do Dishes Properly”. 

And it actually does well. Comments pile on thanking him, saying that they’ve always struggled with doing dishes, especially due to mental health struggles, and that the tutorial really helped.

But for every comment like that, there’s another comment talking about how he acts like a dad, and how his words of comfort helped them.

Phil hopes that not one of his sons see these comments. He thinks that he will die if any of them mention it or rub it in his face.

God, he’s only 31. He’s not _that_ old. And he knew that he was a decent parent, he tries his best, but there’s no way that he could be seen as a father figure to _this_ many people.

_Right, there’s no way,_ he tries to convince himself. _That would be absurd._

* * *

Well, at least now, Phil thinks, that’s that. He’s dealt with the urge to help sad teenagers and young adults on the internet, he’s helped Wilbur with his channel that’s steadily growing, and he’s satisfied.

That’s when Techno comes up to him. And really, he should have expected this.

Techno, for lack of a better word, confronts him at the door when he’s coming home from work. It’s probably unintentional, but his large form basically leaves him no room but to just stand by the front door. Well, if Phil, for any reason, wanted to get out of this conversation, he can’t.

“Look, dad.” Phil winces. He really doesn’t know what to expect, but Techno doesn’t talk about things seriously unless it’s a real problem. Techno continues, “You know how like, nerds exist.”

Phil blinks. That is… literally the opposite of what he expected him to say, and he had no expectations. “I mean, I would daresay that you are a nerd, but continue.”

Techno looks rightly insulted. “I am _not_ a nerd. In no way could I be considered a nerd. I could beat up a nerd. If me and a nerd got into a fight, I would win. That literally puts me higher on the food chain than nerds. I’m better than them. Nerds watch Star Wars, but Star Wars is shit. There’s no way I’m a nerd, that literally expels me from nerdhood.”

“You’re being awfully defensive if you don’t believe it, but whatever helps you sleep at night, Tech.”

“That’s not… ugh!” he runs his hand through his long, pink hair to push the stray bits out of his face. “This isn’t the point. What I wanted to say is that I actually like your idea of teaching people on Youtube, and I want to do it. But like, with fighting.”

“Wait, you want to what, start an illegal fight club on Youtube?” Phil says indulcriously. There’s no way he’s aiding his son in… well, that wouldn’t be a crime, he doesn’t think, but it would be kind of messed up.

“No!” Techno denies immediately. “God, no, I want to just like, give them fighting advice, I guess. How to not fucking die in a fight, that kind of shit. To give them a chance if they’re being bullied to actually win a fight.”

Phil blinks. That’s actually a lot more pure than he originally thought. In that case, he doesn’t even have to think about it. “Okay.”

Techno, about to go on a spiel, stops and shuts his mouth. “Wait, that’s it?” he says, shocked. “You aren’t gonna put up a fight? I can try to convince you more, if you want. I actually have a list right here of reasons I should do this,” pulling a paper out of his back pocket.

Phil shrugs it off. “No need. We can order a camera for you too so you don’t have to share with Wilbur. You probably don’t need a mic, either. Do you have a place to record?” he asks, making his way to the laptop, leaving a dumbstruck Techno behind who shortly follows after Phil beckons.

“I… yeah, I actually got permission to record at the studio after lessons.” Phil hums, pleased.

“Good. Shall we look at what would be best for you then?” He pats the cushion next to him and they browse on the laptop together.

And, if after they order the camera, Techno gives him a hug, well, that’s just their business.

* * *

Techno… may have formed a small cult.

To be honest, Phil has absolutely no fucking idea what is going on in the comment section of his videos.

God, this is worse than a fight club. Why does Techno always attract the weirdos?

Techno’s first video did oddly well, reaching ten thousand views easy within a day of posting it, and it only kept growing, almost at fifty thousand now. What happened next is what Phil is trying to figure out for himself.

Cause like… it isn’t normal to have the comments spammed with “Blood For The Blood God”, right…?

Phil _thinks_ that it must have gotten shared on an external site, which is why all of the comments were just being spammed, but like. He just didn’t understand. Why Techno, of all people? What the hell was going on??

* * *

How to win a fight against your bitchass bullies

Technoblade 45,327 views

View Comments

adamspog 

Awesome fighting advice! I’ll have to use this next time, I never thought about making them lose their cool first. Also, cool pig mask, bro ;)

Reply

Viera Smalt

Blood For The Blood God

Reply

Bisaster

Blood For The Blood God

Reply

adamspog

Blood for the blood god…?

Reply

technoblood

Blood For The Blood God

Reply

Nick's Gaming

Blood For The Blood God

Reply

pikachoosemesenpai

Blood For The Blood God

Reply

Kiana Croser

POV: You're trying to figure out why all of the comments are "Blood For The Blood God"

Reply

meatloaf lover

Blood For The Blood God

Reply

* * *

Is Phil an awful parent if he honestly didn’t see his coming?

It really made sense. Tommy was the only one who hadn’t been on Youtube at all. Him, Techno, and Wilbur were all posting consistently. And the thing was, Tommy _seemed_ like he didn’t mind. He had begun to yell about how he didn’t want to see anyone’s videos, because they were probably lame, and Phil, like an idiot, really thought that’s what he thought.

At least, that’s what he thought until Tommy is sitting next to him on Phil’s bed, eyes tearing up and stilted words at Phil pats his back.

“I just… god, I feel left out, you know? A-and I’ve talked about it with Ms. Puffy, and she’s told me you aren’t purposely leaving me out, but it’s… it’s still _hard_. Cause like, when you guys took me in, it was already you and Wilbur and Techno, and I had to fit in. But then you carved a place for me, and it was okay. It was okay, and still is, I guess. I fit in, and everything was okay. But _now_ you’ve all got this thing that you’re all doing, and I just feel left out,” the exhaustion loosing Tommy’s lips, allowing him to share things he hadn’t meant to, Phil thinks.

Phil pulls him close and Tommy doesn’t fight him. “Hey, Toms, you _know_ that’s not true. We love you, and we weren’t purposely excluding you. I promise you that. You’re right though, we should have thought about how you might feel about being left out. That’s my bad. I should have done better as a dad, and seen how you were feeling before it got this big.”

Tommy hums into Phil’s shirt as acknowledgement.

“Tell you what. How about we find something you can do for Youtube too? Is there anything you’d like to do?” he asks the boy, tracing circles into his back.

“I… well, actually, me and Tubbo had talked about streaming? Tubbo actually is already streaming, and people watch him play games, and he suggested that I could join him? Like, where we play Minecraft together? I’m not sure if that’s feasible or anything, but it just sounds fun, and then…” Tommy trails off, insecurity taking hold of him.

Phil smiles and squeezes Tommy. “That sounds good, Toms. It’s late now, so how about we figure out what you’ll need for streaming tomorrow?” Tommy nods, and Phil continues. “Do you want to sleep in here tonight, or go back to your room?”

“Could I stay here just a little longer? Please?”

Phil smiles. “Of course, son. I love you.”

And when Tommy squeezes his hand, he knows it’s an “I love you too.”

* * *

Tommy’s first stream went surprisingly well. He got a surprisingly high amount of viewers, mostly from people on Tubbo’s stream (who, at one point, got almost 3,000 viewers on his end) coming to his stream. But he was left all sorts of kind comments that Phil and Tommy read over again that evening, and about 400 subscribers, all from one stream. Phil figured most of them came from Tubbo, a growing streamer, but it was still insane.

The two of them spent the rest of the evening trying to figure out how to connect a Nintendo Switch to his computer to stream so Tommy can stream games on there as well as Minecraft.

Tommy’s exuberant smile when he streams is worth all of it though, Phil thinks. It’s all working out. They all have their channels, completely different in content, each their own little project, but their own little pet projects. All of them have been consistently posting, and growing (some faster than others, thanks to the Youtube algorithm). 

Yeah, everything’s okay now. They’re all okay.

And then Phil’s channel blows up.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> y'all,,,,, you're so nice wtf i'm literally sobbing thank u for reading my awful fic and like,,, man i've cried like 4 times reading the comments like!! even if i don't reply to them i read them all and cherish them!! i just have a tough time coming up with responses haha, but just know that if u leave a comment i love u and ur one of my favorite ppl
> 
> sorry for the late update!!!! my brain is a stinky ass bitch and didn't let me work on it until like yesterday lol funny story actually my switch fuckin broke for an entire day and i think it was the universe telling me to finish this so i wrote 5k in a day
> 
> also i'm crying again it's all squishy like the chapter??? it's squishy it's really rude of it to do that wtf man, i don't know how to fix it bc the html isn't working for some reason

It was incredibly obvious where the sudden surge of viewers came from. All of the top comments were talking about the various Youtubers that had promoted his content, asking who else came from the various content creators that had recommended them.

But basically, to sum it up:

Philza was first talked about on Tumblr. Some big Youtuber found those posts about him, and apparently liked the content that he produced, and mentioned him in one of their videos. From there, people, curious, went to go watch his videos, and then he got spread around on Twitter.

And now, he apparently had four hundred thousand subscribers.

Why was this his life?

* * *

“It’s obvious what you have to do now,” Techno states. “You have to make a Twitter account and ride the fame until you wither into obscurity and die.”

Phil stares at him, making the classic “stop your bullshit” dad face, but Wilbur and Tommy both nod solemnly in agreement.

“It makes sense. You want to have some form of fan interaction. Being active on Twitter can give your fans a way to contact you and a way for you to listen to what they might want as video. Not only that, but you can update them about videos and shit. It makes sense,” Wilbur says seriously.

“Plus, like, if you get verified on Twitter, imagine the chaos you could cause! You could mention famous people on Twitter and they’ll actually fucking see it. You could impersonate other accounts and say shit. The power is yours, big man,” Tommy grins widely.

“There is no way I’m going to do that, Tommy. If you ever get verified on Twitter, then you can speedrun getting the verification taken away. If, and that’s an _if_ , I got a Twitter, it would be professional.”

Tommy sulks. Wilbur snickers. “Take that, gremlin child.”

Tommy straightens up. “I am not a fucking gremlin child!” He tackles Wilbur who gives a surprised “oof” before pushing Tommy off by his face. Tommy tries to bite him and Wilbur shrieks.

“ _Boys_. Cut it _out_.” Tommy sighs and gets off of Wilbur, but not before sticking his tongue out at him. Wilbur reciprocates, and Techno sighs.

“I’ll make the Twitter account, if only to make you all stop pestering me. I don’t know why I even put up with this.”

Wilbur grins and leans over to Phil, squishing Tommy in the process, who grunts. Wilbur's eyes sparkle with mischief. “It’s because you _looooo-o-o-o-ove_ us,” he says in a singsong voice. Tommy pushes him back to his cushion, and Wilbur responds by shoving a pillow into Tommy's face.

Phil sighs and shakes his head, but he can’t quite hide his smile.

* * *

And so, the Twitter account is created. It amasses 20k followers quickly, and his mentions are full of videos ideas and requests for tutorials.

It’s a bit overwhelming, if he’s being honest.

However, when he’s passively reading the requests that have been clogging up his mentions, he notices a large amount of requests for him to stream in some form. There’s a few joking requests for him to play Minecraft, wanting to see him fail at it (seriously, he isn’t that old, he’s played his fair share of Minecraft and he’s quite good at it as well, if he does say so himself). But he notices requests for him to do live explanations of things, to give words of encouragement and comfort, and for him to do a Q&A, and he thinks.

Doing live explanations probably wouldn’t be feasible. He doesn’t think that he could do it on the off chance that there was a problem. He needed to be in front of a camera with pre-scripted information. Maybe he could get away with doing it with cooking? He would have to go over the details for that, would have to figure out how feasible that would be.

Perhaps not a stream, but what about a video where he just talks? He might be able to do that. He goes over the details in his head. He could have them send him questions, maybe through email? He remembers the Twitter account he made, could the boys help him figure out a way to have them send questions through the account itself? And then there’s the matter of filtering out questions. He doesn’t really want to answer the super invasive questions, and he knows his kids would prefer to keep up their somewhat-anonymity.

He doesn’t know how soon he’ll be able to do it, and he’ll have to see what his kids think but…

Quite honestly, it sounds fun. He recruits Techno and WIlbur’s help, and they set up a hashtag for the Q&A. People flood in with questions that they want him to answer, and his follower count also increases, most likely from the amount of hashtags.

Tommy helps him set up the recording material to answer the questions, opting to have him scroll through the tweets on his phone and be recorded from his desk. And so, a scheduled video is set up for him, and the questions pour in, almost overwhelming. People want to know who he is, personal details, things about his family, things he isn’t comfortable with sharing. Things his _family_ isn’t comfortable sharing.

He privately makes the decision to skip over those questions.

* * *

The video goes really well, surprisingly. Phil gets about twenty thousand people watching the premiere live, watching as he scrolls through the hashtag, answering the questions that he was okay with and ignoring the questions that he wasn’t. The chat on the side was mostly filled with love, a few people calling him dad, but asked questions. Why he wasn’t answering questions about his family, why he was only doing the dumb shit like his favorite colors, if he played instruments, his video making process, but that was a minority, and he ignored that.

He may worry about the people online, and want to help them, but he doesn’t owe them anything. He doesn’t owe them personal details, especially when his kids have explicitly stated that they would prefer to stay anonymous.

And so he ignores those questions, only shares the bare minimum that his family has already approved, he's okay with that. He just has to hope that his fans (are they fans?) will understand too.

* * *

In the end, it was a simple mistake that caused the whole ordeal; just a simple question about his sons that led to all of _this._

He was doing the cooking stream he talked about a while ago, showing how to cook in bulk and freeze stuff ahead for when you’re too tired to cook, and passively talking about his sons, because honestly, when does he ever shut up about them?

“Oh yeah, my oldest will probably need the camera after this,” he says, mostly talking to himself as he lays out the cut bread on the cooking sheet, slathering a garlic-butter combination together on both sides. He's honestly forgot that he's being filmed, being watched. It's just like he's talking to himself, and it's oddly therapeutic. “My two youngest have their own cameras, but my eldest accidentally broke his when demonstrating a kick, and he wants to upload his newest video as soon as possible, and the other two don’t want to share theirs cause they're working on their own uploads. Oh yeah, but this garlic bread is really nice, by the way,” he says. “You can cook it right now, or you can just stick it in the freezer for like, 3 months? That’s the longest I’ve risked. It goes pretty fast anyways, so it might not even matter. Great for a side dish or like, if you just wanna eat some food. Just pop it in the oven and bam, garlic bread. I'm kind of a genius.” 

He doesn’t even notice his slip until after the stream. His feed is flooded with mentions, talking about how his sons could all possibly be Youtubers. And unfortunately, it trends.

His follower count surges as people discuss who his sons could be. Outlandish guesses are thrown of big name Youtubers that are immediately shut down by others.

The conspiracy lasts a few days, much to Phil’s and his sons dismay. Finally though, it dies out. Everyone basically comes to a consensus that they’re probably small channels with hardly any subscribers, and that they’ll be impossible to find.

Thank god, Phil thanks. He’s had his first taste of exactly how invasive the internet could get, and it’s shocking. It’s strange how people could be so… _obsessive,_ so invasive, pushing past his boundaries just to find out small snippets of his personal life.

He’s ready to put that behind him, to just completely forget about it. In the future, he streams less, watches himself more, analyses everything he says to make sure he isn’t going to give something away, something that will reveal his sons, reveal his identity, give the fans one more thing to analyze to no end and not let go of.

* * *

Tommy takes a deep breath. “Ready, you two?” he asks. “I’m gonna go live in just a sec.” Tubbo cheers, and Ranboo voices his approval too.

Ranboo is the newest addition to Tommy and Tubbo's friend group- a smaller streamer from America who is steadily growing. They met on a discord server, and the three of them have been tight knit ever since. And even though Tommy and Tubbo are practically neighbors and Ranboo’s a whole continent away, it’s never felt weird, Ranboo has never felt out of place in their dynamic.

“Alright, I’m booting it up,” Tommy says. Tommy’s grown a lot recently- not nearly as much as Tubbo, though. Recently, he was raided by fucking _Karl Jacobs,_ and Tubbo’s follower count soared, and since the three of them played together so often, by extension, Ranboo and Tommy grew too. Tommy shook the thoughts out of his head and booted up the stream, taking a deep breath.

“Alright lads welcome to the stream! Oh wow, there’s a lot of you,” he grins. “Anyways, we’re gonna be playing GeoGuessr today!” Tommy practically yells into the mic.

“Why do you always have to be so _loud,_ Tommy?” Tubbo complains.

“Oh, fuck you, Big T- Oh! Yeah, Tubbo and Ranboo are here too. They’re gonna help me cheat.”

“We’re not gonna help you cheat, Tommy. It’s just that you suck at the game so you begged us to help you out,” Ranboo says. Tommy’s eyes widen and he glares at something to the side.

“Shut the fuck up prick. You don’t know what you’re talking about. You’re a sad, sad, small man who knows nothing. Absolutely nothing. You know nothing about the matters you speak of. You bastard.”

“I’m literally taller _and_ older than you,” Ranboo states. Tommy screeches like a demon from hell.

“Boys, boys," Tubbo cuts in, "how about you two stop bickering like children and, I don’t know, play the fucking game?”

Tommy sighs but starts up a game. “Country streak, or aim for points?” Tommy calls out to the other two boys.

“Points,” Tubbo and Ranboo say at the same time, before both laughing. “This is why we’re the most iconic duo,” Tubbo says. Tommy frowns.

“What, am I not good enough for you? Fuck you, Tubbo,” he says, his tone light. Tommy can practically see Tubbo’s mischievous smile.

“Oh, someone’s clingy, aren’t they?” Tommy doesn’t dignify it with a response and Ranboo wheezes in the background. Tommy navigates the mouse to the “World” option and selects the option to play.

They first spawn in the middle of a city. “Oh, this is like, somewhere urban,” Tubbo says. “Probably America?”

“Wait, is this New York fucking City? Tommy, zoom in on that truck- no, not that one, the kidnapping white truck.” Tommy follows Ranboo’s instructions, and sure enough, the address on the bus says New York City. Ranboo lets out a cheer.

“Wait, wait, wait. You know what would be so pog? Let’s find the exact spot that this is. How does that sound, chat? Want to be overachievers?” Tommy squints and zooms in onto the signs at an intersection. “Let’s see… chat’s spamming Brooklyn, let’s look…” He searches for a moment before Tubbo yells “Right there!” Sure enough, there’s the intersection. The three of them give a loud whoop at a badge pops up saying “Spot on!” and the score gives him 5,000 points, only off by 2 meters.

“We’re off to a good start, chat! Wha- no, I’m not a cheater! I did _not_ rig this!”

“Well, if you really think about it, I’m the real MVP here. _I’m_ the one who found out that it was New York City.”

“No, no, I’m the one who spotted the intersection. Tommy would have definitely kept going if it wasn’t for me.”

“Boys, boys. Stop bickering like an old married couple,” Tommy says, ignoring the indignant noises the other two boys let out over call. “After all, it’s _my_ stream, I’m the one who gets all the credit.”

“Like hell-”

“Oh, fuck you, Tommy-”

“Come on lads, jealousy really isn’t- isn’t a _pog_ look on you.” He moves the mouse to go onto the next round. “Wait, what the hell? Where the hell are we?” Tommy drags the mouse around to see a one way street full of trees.

“Oh, you’ve definitely dropped in like, Canada. I feel like there’s like, no one in Canada.”

“Now, now, Tubbo, no need to be rude to the Canadians. They can’t help that their country is weird and- what the hell, is that German?” Ranboo trails off. Indeed, Tommy zooms in, and yeah, that’s German.

“Okay, okay. Time for geography lessons. Where do they speak German? It’s like…”

“Well, Germany, I would think.”

“Shut the fuck up, bastard. I was getting to that,” Tommy says as he glares off screen. “But there’s also like, Switzerland… oh, and Belgium.”

“My, my, someone knows their countries!” Tubbo jokes. Tommy looks at chat to see them spamming about how Tommy’s a nerd. He glares at the camera.

“Chat, I see you. I’m- I am _not_ a nerd. My brother is just so fucking obsessed with geography. It’s the weirdest shit. He’s constantly playing this game and talking about shitty flags and stuff. It’s not my fault my brain is so big and just remembered some of it.”

“Oh, that’s right,” Tubbo grins. “It’s been so long since I’ve been over to your place, I forgot that he does that.”

“Ahem,” Ranboo cuts in. “As much as I love hearing you talk about TommyInnit’s brother, I think we should probably keep playing the game. Chat’s spamming _brotherinnit_.”

“Awww, Ranboo, did you feel left out? Don’t worry Boo, I could never forget about you. You’re my best friend,” Tubbo teases as Tommy looks at chat. Indeed, the chat’s just spamming about Tommy’s family, the mention of his brother, asking for more, more, _more_.

His stomach twists uncomfortably looking at it as Tubbo and Ranboo jokingly flirt. He… he wasn’t comfortable with it, honestly. His fans digging into his personal life, wanting to know about his family, when he’s clearly said that he isn’t okay with it before. It's too similar to what _just_ happened with Phil, and that was honestly terrifying. The last thing he wants, the last thing he _needs_ is for his fans to somehow find him. _Really_ being seen is honestly… terrifying. He drums his fingers against his desk anxiously, leg bouncing.

“So, Tommy. Germany it is?” Ranboo says somewhat softly, snapping Tommy out of his thoughts. He knows Ranboo noticed him in his head and was gently trying to bring him back to reality, and he appreciated that.

“Oh, yeah! Germany it is, big man,” he says boisterously. “Let’s go… there!” He sets the icon down and promptly screams. “Fucking _Austria?_ What the _fuck_?”

Ranboo and Tubbo laugh hysterically on the call. “Tommy, you’re so dumb! You forgot about Austria!”

“I am not _dumb_! In fact, this shows how pog I am! Only uncool people know about geography. This just shows that I truly am the biggest, the coolest. I am the best.”

“He says that when he’s feeling bad about himself,” Tubbo faux whispers to Ranboo. “It helps him cope with knowing he’s not the biggest man.” Tommy can almost see Ranboo’s nod in agreement as he says “Ah, I see, I see.”

“Both of you are the worst. Oh, I wonder where we could be,” Tommy says. He zooms in dramatically on two flags. One is a blue flag with gold stars in the circle, and the other has red, white, and blue vertical stripes. “I am thinking… China. Yes, we are in China.” He drags his mouse to hover over France and clicks it, getting 4,762 points. “That was so hard, guys. You should all be proud of me.” Tubbo snickers and Tommy continues on.

“Ah, yes, we are on a road, with- what.”

“Wh-what?! What kind of abomination is that!” Tubbo shouts. It seems like a normal suburban neighborhood with a paved street, but in the middle of the street, there’s just red brick. There’s really no reason for the red brick. The street doesn’t get larger, it’s not like there’s a manhole or anything there, there’s just. Red brick.

“Wait, Tommy, hold on, go back to that house. The white one.” Tommy follows Ranboo’s request and turns the screen to the left. “Okay, I am almost certain we are in Texas. That’s the weird star that they put on everything.”

Tommy scrunches up his face. “Well, I don’t exactly know much about America. I try not to associate with that lesser country.”

“Well like, the red brick is kinda weirdchamp, and America’s fucked up, so maybe he’s right?” Tubbo points out.

“Yeah, I just looked the Texas star up. That’s definitely it, it even has the weird round thing around it. I say go Texas.” Ranboo says confidently. Tommy hums and moves the mouse to Texas on the map, and selects the submit button.

“Fucking _AUSTRALIA_?" Tommy shouts, feedback coming through on the mic. Ranboo shrieks as both Tommy and Tubbo laugh hysterically. Tommy got _one_ point. This is one hundred percent Ranboo's fault, and Ranboo himself even knows it.

“I… I don’t understand," he cries out. "That’s the Texas star, is there something in Australia with stars? Are there Texas people in Australia? I don’t understand.”

“There, there, Ranboo,” Tubbo says after he’s calmed down from his laughing fit, a giggle interrupting him every now and then. “Americans are invading everywhere, it’s probably just some weird Americans from Texas trying to pollute Australia. It's probably just Sapnap from the Dream Team. You were probably right.” Ranboo just fake-sobs in response and Tubbo sighs. “Tommy, we need to redeem ourselves. To the next one.”

They spawn in the middle of a city. Tommy squints. “Is that Chinese or Japanese?” he asks.

“Oh! That’s totally Japanese! Look, there’s the little bits that are like, not complicated. Chinese is all hard, but Japanese has like, this kata-whatever that makes it easier to read.”

“How do you even _know_ that?” Ranboo asks.

“Duolingo may have kidnapped my family, but it’s taught me lifesaving lessons, apparently.” Tommy looks at chat as well, who is spamming Japan, and decides to trust Tubbo on this one. He selects Japan, and sure enough, Tubbo was right.

“I’m the big man now,” Tubbo says proudly as Tommy navigates to the next game.

They spawn on a road again. Tommy groans. “I am so sick of these roads. Why the fuck do I keep spawning in on roads that don’t make any sense? I have to go like, a full minute until you find a sign. There aren’t even any cars, what kind of bullshit is this?”

“Oh! There’s a sign right there!” Tubbo calls out. Tommy zooms in.

“Oh, this is definitely not America,” Ranboo says.

“Not the UK either. Australia, maybe? No,” Tommy shakes his head. “I don’t trust Australia anymore. Not after the other game,” he says.

Tubbo snorts. “Come on, Tommy. Where else would it be?” Tommy navigates the map over to Australia.

“Okay. I’m thinking either Australia or New Zealand,” Ranboo says. Tubbo hums in agreement.

“No guys, what about the cat barf place?” Tommy says seriously. There’s silence in the call for a few moments.

 _"Cat barf?”_ Ranboo asks. “I’m honestly terrified to ask you to elaborate.”

“Oh god, not _this_ again,” Tubbo sighs. “Tommy, don’t you dare.” Tommy ignores him.

“Okay, look at Australia,” Tommy says. “Chat, look at Australia- here, I’ll pull it up big for you.” He pulls up a picture of Australia on the screen. “See how it’s a cat and a dog face? Like, if you split it in the middle, you’ve got the cat and dog?”

“Oh, I see it!” Ranboo says. Tubbo just groans. _"End me,"_ he bemoans.

“Now,” Tommy continues, “You have _this_ bitch.” He zooms in on the cat. “The cat barf. The abomination. This is a cat throwing up, and god just went, ‘Yes, these countries look good, let’s keep this. Cat puke is my favorite.’ It's an abomination.”

“Does anyone even _live_ there?” Tubbo asks. Tommy shrugs. “Hell if I know. It’s probably unpopulated, just a weird little floating puke island.” He moves his mouse over to Australia and selects it, inputting it as his answer.

“No. No. No no no no no. I will _**not**_ accept this. No." He stands up. Tubbo and Ranboo just laugh obnoxiously loud, those bitches. Tommy throws his headphones off and stomps off as Ranboo and Tubbo’s laughter increases. Tommy can still be heard by his mic as he screams in agony.

It was the fucking cat barf country. Chat goes _insane_. God, Tommy knows already that this will be clipped. He screams more off screen. Tommy can even hear Tubbo and Ranboo's obnoxiously loud laughter through his headphones lying on the ground.

After a moment Tommy stomps over to the computer, picking up his headphones from the ground. “I’m fucking done with this shit. I’m ending stream here. I can’t play this game of heartache and misery no more,” he rants, and just completely ends the stream.

Ranboo and Tubbo’s laughter just grows.

* * *

Honestly, Wilbur regrets just a bit agreeing to play songs for stream. He regrets even more when he stupidly decides to let his viewers decide what songs to sing on stream.

God, he should have known better. The most requested song is fucking _Megalovania_. Multiple people are requesting for him to play All Star. He’s so done with his fans. He sees a request for Sugar Crash, sees a request for fucking _Heat Waves_ (he pushes down the little bit of insecurity that flares up that it’s the Minecraft song, what if they’ve connected him to Tommy, because that’s unrealistic, and the song itself is popular), and god. He’s so tired.

He hates the internet. He hates his fanbase.

"Guys, I'm dead serious. No more meme songs, I can't do them all. Please guys, I'm begging you. If you send me an _actual_ song that isn't just associated with memes, I might cover it. Just _please_ , send me something that _won't_ get me mocked eternally," he cries out.

He scrolls through his chat. He has about two thousand watching him right now, just watching him play covers of songs, and he didn't even know _why_. It's not like it was particularly interesting, and most of the people requesting weren't actually serious. He sighs and scrolls through the chat, and sees a song repeated by the same person over and over. “Elixirpeach is requesting… I’ve never heard of this song actually, could you send a link?” He looks at chat and sees the person keyboard slam and he laughs. However, their next message is a link, and he goes to pulls it up.

A guitar strums energetically and he can hear hums, before the song starts up. _“See, I was born the second child, with a spirit running wild, running free,”_ the voice sings. _“And they saw trouble in my eyes, they were quick to recognize the devil in me.”_ Wilbur smiles and bounces his head. “I quite like the sound! I really like the song, it’s really relatable. I wanna listen to more of their music, hold on,” he says outloud for the stream, and pulls up the artist. “The Oh Hellos,” he says. “I’ve just found a new artist to listen to. Thanks, Elixirpeach. Their sound is a lot different to what I usually listen to, but that’s not a bad thing. In fact, I quite it. It has good vibes.”

After listening to the song over again, he navigates back to the stream. “Alright, I think I’ve got this. It’s only got four chords, and it’s honestly really simple. I also kinda want to do a cover of their Soldier, Poet, King. Who knows, might do a cover of it sometime.” He mindlessly strums on his guitar, fumbling a bit with the strum pattern but still continuing, singing the song in its entirety.

He really likes the song, honestly, and keeps humming it through the entire stream. He relates to it, in a way? Not just because he’s the second child (technically, he’s the first, even if Techno’s a few months older than him, because he was the first to be fostered by Phil, which technically makes him the first child. Techno doesn’t care though, he still makes fun of Wilbur for being younger), but he feels like the person that’s sung about. He’s able to escape, in a way, with his music, but he wants _more_. He wants to explore the world, he can hear the call of Mother Earth herself, to create, to build, and it takes everything he has not to run and follow what the voices in his head say.

Maybe that’s why he loves geography so much. Learning about the world is almost as good as exploring it, he tells himself.

God, he’s probably not in the best mindset to keep streaming.

He hastily wraps up stream, thanking everyone for coming, and lays on his bed and sighs.

No matter how hard he runs from the thoughts, the keep coming back. He feels the twitch in his hands, an itch in his head. He needs to write something. 

He doesn’t want to write something sad. He needs to write something comedic, something to get him out of this head space.

He starts strumming, fiddling with different chords, humming a melody to go along with it.

* * *

Techno has literally no fucking idea what’s going on, but he’s rolling with it.

He has Phil’s camera that he let him borrow (under the promise that he will be extra careful and will _not_ break this one), and fighting advice for the nerds that call him a God.

He’s really not sure what that’s all about.

He was able to find a subreddit dedicated to him, and looking at the people there, it looks like his viewers were mostly kids who were tired of getting picked on. He’s still not sure where the Blood God people came from. He’s assuming it’s a mass troll, and then the newer people who came on were also just playing along.

He takes a deep breath, puts on the pig mask, and starts filming.

“Are you tired of getting beat up in front of other people? Are you looking to protect yourself in a fight?” He takes a deep breath. “Well, you’re in luck. I know most of you are weak nerds, but these tips can help you next time you’re in a fight and need help _not_ getting beat up.

“First. I talked about this before, but I cannot overstate how important it is. Do _not_ lose your cool. Your number one goal should be to fuck up the other person mentally. The more out of it, the more pissed off, the more distracted they are, the more likely it is that you’ll survive the fight. Got that?

“Second. Learn all you can about your opponent. This is incredibly important. Learn what hand they favor- they’ll usually punch with that hand, unless they’ve been professionally trained. Learn what pisses them off. As Sun Tzu says, ‘If you know the enemy and know yourself you need not fear the results of a hundred battles.’ Follow Sun Tzu’s teachings. He will be the real key to victory. He's a goddamn genius.

“Now. Believe it or not, there’s a way to get hit where it doesn’t hurt as much. Don’t believe me? Well, fuck you. But also, try it.

“Remember how I asked you to figure out which hand your opponent favors? Make it as likely that they’ll punch with that hand. Is your opponent right handed? Stand on the left. Now, keep an eye on them. When amateurs punch, they pull their fist as far back as possible.

“Now, you want to meet the fist with your forehead. You see, when the person swings for a punch, it’ll be the most powerful when they make contact with their opponent. And with them drawing their fist back as well, it’ll hurt a damn lot when it hits you. So, in other words, you want to purposefully get hit before it reaches full force. You’ll also want to meet it with your forehead, since that’s the strongest part of your body. It’ll hurt less in the end if you face it head on. Tuck your chin in, and your hard forehead will whack your opponents fist. 

“Now, this is going to sound ridiculous, but it’ll pay off. If possible, try to hit your opponents fist with your forehead. Hear me out.” He cracks his knuckles mindlessly.

“If your opponent is an ameteur, they’re gonna have a tough time hitting a moving target. And if you’re an ameteur as well, _you’re_ going to have a tough time hitting a moving fist. And in theory, you’ll essentially look like you’re weaving, a boxing technique. It’s really a win-win for you. You’re either going to completely dodge the punch, or when you do get hit, it won’t hurt.”

Techno grins under the mask. “If you aren’t looking to put in any effort to beat them up, or don’t want to, this should be good for you. You just gotta outlast them. Eventually, either they’re going to get sick of fighting you if you aren’t even getting hurt, or your forehead is going to completely going to fuck up their fists. Either way, it’s a W for you.”

“Next time, I’ll cover how to actually beat them up, if that’s your thing. Remember this technique, and you should be good next time you’re in a fight.”

* * *

“Boys! Movie night!” Phil calls. “Coming!” Techno and WIlbur both yell from their rooms. Tommy’s already running down the stairs like a gremlin. He jumps onto the couch. 

“SPOT CHECK!” he yells. “THE LEFTMOST CUSHION IS _MINE._ I HAVE CLAIMED IT. IF ANYONE STEALS IT, YOU WILL FACE MY WRATH.” He jumps back up. “Dad, I’m gonna get popcorn. If anyone sits down there, tell them it’s my spot.” He runs into the kitchen. Phil smiles and promptly sits down on the cushion Tommy was just screaming about. Wilbur takes the middle seat, and Techno takes a seat on a beanbag on the floor. Wilbur grabs the remote from the side table and starts flicking through Disney Plus.

“A Disney movie? Really?” Techno asks. “Can’t we watch _anything_ else?”

“Oh, then what do you suggest, oh great Techno?”

“Kung Fu Panda.”

“ _No._ We just watched that like, two weeks ago. We’re watching something else.”

“Oh? Well then, what do _you_ want?”

“WE’RE WATCHING UP!” Tommy yells from the kitchen.

“NO!” Wilbur and Techno yell in unison. Tommy screeches. Phil laughs.

“Perhaps I could grab my Ghibli movies from my room?” Wilbur suggests. Techno shakes his head.

“Mate, as much as I love Ghibli, I kind of want to watch something that doesn’t have me questioning reality after,” Phil says. Wilbur pouts. Phil takes the remote from Wilbur’s hand and scrolls through the movies on Disney Plus.

“Dad! What the fuck! You’re in my spot!” Tommy yells as he walks in, bowl of microwave popcorn in his hand. Phil immediately stands up and moves to the cushion next to Wilbur on the right. “Just keeping it warm for you, bud.” Tommy huffs. After Phil’s sat on the cushion, he keeps scrolling through movies.

“Hey, what about Fantastic Mr. Fox?” he suggests, looking to the others to see their opinions. 

Wilbur smiles. Techno nods. “Well, it’s no _Up_ , but I suppose it’ll be fine,” which is pretty much resounding approval from Tommy.

He smiles and turns it on. Techno lays his head back against his leg, pulling his hair from his ponytail and looking up at him, silently asking him to braid his hair, and he obliges. He looks to his left to see Wilbur and Tommy scooted next to each other under a blanket, Wilbur trying to steal handfuls of popcorn and Tommy swatting his hand away every time he tries, and he thinks, _I love my family._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i cannot write philza minecraft. he is a mystery to me. i do not know why he has the main pov i guess he just demanded it
> 
> listen. ranboo , tubbo, and tommy are my favorites. i love them. they mean the world to me. also i wanna brag i played all of those games on geoguessr and in one round, i got two perfect scores (new york city and las vegas) but i cut out las vegas bc i didn't want it to be unrealistic. and yes, the cat barf thing happened. literally my entire family was in the room watching me for some reason and listen. i have 6 younger siblings, and they ALL laughed at me. even the baby. it was bullshit. well actually i think the baby was just laughing bc she does that when ppl laugh but STILL it's the principle of the thing
> 
> if any of you read the webtoon viral hit techno is just the chicken man. i know nothing about fighting so i copy it all from that. anyways read lookism and viral hit
> 
> the oh hellos are SO GOOD they have good vibes and a nice found family dynamic to their songs. second child, restless child has such a wilbur vibe to me so i made him sing it
> 
> if there are any typos,,,,, please tell me,,,, i wrote half of this on my phone and my brain is a bitch and doesn't let me edit stuff bc it just like skims over it all

**Author's Note:**

> so yeah everyone say thank you to my girlfriend for getting me into my latest hyperfixation, block men are ruining my life
> 
> also i'll try my hardest to get chapters out but my brain is mean sometimes!! so like really no promises for when updates will be


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